


Забытый дождь

by Riddle_TM



Series: Бывшие товарищи [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: Русский
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:16:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12349914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riddle_TM/pseuds/Riddle_TM
Summary: Гален был слишком мягок, думает Орсон, и их предали. Но он всё исправит — он в этом хорош.





	Забытый дождь

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Memories of Rain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9174889) by [thewightknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight). 



It all made sense now, Orson told himself as the shuttle sped towards Eadu. All of Galen’s late nights, always making sure he was the last in the labs, his insistence on reviewing files multiple times. He must have suspected they had a traitor in their ranks. But instead of taking the appropriately harsh measures, he’d taken it upon himself to secure against the possibility of treason, and not well enough. Galen should have come to him. Too soft, Orson thought, fondness laced with annoyance. Too protective of “his” people. That had always been a failing of his, for as long as they’d known each other. It exasperated him at the same time as it further endeared Galen to him. It’d be a mess, but he’d clean it all up and they’d move forward again, just as they’d done before.

He kept telling himself that even as Galen threw himself in front of his scientists. Protective of them even now, almost fatherly, and he loved him even more for it, but he had to make an example. Such a betrayal could not go unpunished. Galen would forgive him, he knew. Galen always did. This would all work out. They would sort through the scientists’ personal effects and find out which one or ones had been responsible, and together they’d work to undo whatever damage had been done. And soon they would stand before the Emperor together to receive the accolades they were due, recognition for their service to the Empire.

The pain that flashed across Galen’s face when he gave the order to fire, when the bodies hit the deck behind him, was all too familiar, Orson realized, and the doubts that had lurked in the back of his thoughts ever since he found out about the deserter pushed themselves forward. He’d seen such a look before. It had been raining that day on Lah’mu too. It can’t all have been a lie, he thought, searching for some reassurance in Galen’s face.

Maybe if he’d had longer he could have found it, but klaxons shattered the moment. The first bombs hit the platform, and all future moments dissolved in a fiery explosion.

“We have to get you out of here, sir.” One of his Death Troopers tugged at him. Get Galen he wanted to say. Don’t leave him here. But the order died in his throat as he saw how Galen lay, hands reaching up as if in supplication, and in flashes he remembered.

“We should go over what you did today. What kept you so long?”

A hand on his shoulder, another trailing down his chest as lips grazed the back of his neck.

“I’m here now. We can talk about that later.”

Always those hands, distracting him, and yes, lying to him, he now realized. Used with a smile in place of words, a simulation of reciprocation in touch. He allowed himself to be led up the gangplank and fell into his seat as they lifted off, fighting against the numbness that threatened to overcome him. There was only one way to be sure, one place that would give him peace. He gave the order and the troopers complied, setting their course as he instructed.

Scant hours later as he watched the Death Star dawn on Scarif, as the green beams of light speared the ocean in all their destructive glory, he reached out, his hands a plea, a supplication.

“Oh, Galen. It’s so beautiful.”


End file.
